


And If We'd Never Met

by Kodalinx



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Additional Warnings Apply, Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, Parallels from the show, Roommates, Swearing, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-14
Updated: 2020-01-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 05:48:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,058
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22152034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kodalinx/pseuds/Kodalinx
Summary: When Ian goes to college, he expects things to be wildly different from the hardship in the South Side. Unfortunately, he has the pleasure of rooming with Mickey Milkovich. Oh, the fun ensues…
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 3
Kudos: 35





	1. Moving In

Ian unlocked the door with a satisfying click. Shoulder first, he barged it open, letting Fiona squeeze past him with two stacked boxes labelled with black marker (one titled ' _clothes_ ' and the other ' _personal_ '). Dropping them onto the floor, Fiona stepped back and took in the room around her. It was a large, spacious room with two of everything: beds; desks; nightstands. It was pretty impressive in size and the light that filtered in only brightened the room, enlarging the space even further. 

“You’re meant to have a roommate, right?” Fiona asked, eyeing the two bare beds.

Ian followed her in, placing a box down on top of one the empty desks. “Uh…yeah, guess he’s just getting here a little later,” Ian shrugged, acknowledging the two pristine, bare beds.

After many years sharing with Lip, Carl, and Liam all in one room, the idea of living alone seemed freeing, but lonely. And so, when it came to the application process for accommodation, Ian decided that having a roommate might be fun. The open day to view the campus had been so long ago that he hadn’t really remembered the difference in campus locations. He wasn't certain of much more than the fact that living in halls was a typical option. All he really needed was enough space for his stuff and room to work.

Ian had received an email confirming his accommodation and roommate 2 months ago. He had stared at the names attached: _Ian Clayton Gallagher and Mikhailo Aleksandr Milkovich_. Ian hadn’t met many people with diverse backgrounds. Growing up in the South side of Chicago meant he had always been surrounded by others in as rough a housing situation as himself. Only when he travelled out to the clubs further away did he tend to find people who were well travelled, could speak more than one language, or who had read a richer life. In any case, Ian was determined to delve into the world of college as much as possible.

“Well, looks like you get first choice”, Fiona said, waggling her eyebrows at him. “Which bed do you want?”

Ian fought back a smile. Suddenly, he sprinted for the bed on the far side of the room. Launching himself onto the mattress, his body crashed down and bounced. Fiona laughed, rushing to follow him. Their laughter echoed, the two of them chuckling uncontrollably.

“Come on,” Fiona nudged, once they had managed to contain themselves. “Let’s go get the rest of your stuff.”

It turned out that moving the boxes and the rest of Ian’s stuff up to the room took about 20 minutes. There wasn’t a lot to carry up, but the Ian’s room was 3 floors up in the main accommodation building. They managed to get all the boxes stacked into one corner of the room, at the foot of Ian’s bed, leaving space for him to move around and for his roommate’s boxes too.

The hardest part turned out to be getting rid of Fiona once they had finished.

“I could help you unpack?” She suggested.

Her tone was light, but her eyes searched the room for further work. Her hands were positioned on her hips, her hair tied back in a high ponytail. She was warm from their several trips up and down the stairs, but she refused to let it stop her.

“Fiona, I’m fine, I can unpack a few boxes. Plus, I don’t even know where I want to put stuff yet.”

“Well, if you want to go and get a coffee or something we can? Or we could go explore the area a bit?” Fiona tried again.

Ian smiled. Fiona would always fuss over him like a mother, and he was grateful. She was a steady figure in his life, through the thick and thin. However, Ian was ready to dive into his independent life, and let Fiona carry on with her own. This was a big step, but one he was prepared for.

“Fi, it’s okay. I’m excited. You don’t have to worry about me,” Ian leaned in and threw his arms around his sister, hugging her tightly. Fiona squeezed him back and sighed.

“I just can’t believe it. You, staying here for 10 weeks before we see you again. The house is going to feel a little empty without you.”

“With Carl terrorising the place, I doubt it,” he laughed. “I’ll still come and visit during the semester,” Ian soothed.

With a final squeeze from both of them, and a promise to keep her updated with everything, Fiona left Ian to settle in. Ian used a particularly heavy box to wedge the door open and started with the easiest job – moving his clothes into the wardrobe and drawers on his side of the room. He managed to navigate the stack of boxes easier than expected after he spread them out and worked through them one by one. Soon, the drawers were full and organised and the rest of his clothes were hung neatly in the wardrobe.

Ian found that several of the now empty boxes could slide under his bed and left them there for when he would inevitably need them again. He then moved swiftly onto another section of boxes. After a productive session of unpacking and sorting through boxes, Ian finally checked the time on his watch. _16:05._ Ian did a double take at his wrist. All that time gone so fast. He had managed to get through all of his clothes, school stuff, and a few personal things in that time. All that was left was food bits, that he could store in his room; some high school notes that he thought would be useful; and some more personal decorations that he wasn’t sure where to place yet.

His eyes moved across the room to the other bed. The mattress lay immaculate and untouched, the plastic wrapping shining back at him. Ian’s brow furrowed at the sight.

_Still no roommate._

Ian wondered how late this guy was going to push it before showing up. Maybe there was a mix up and his roommate wasn’t showing up anymore. Or maybe they were coming midway through the week if they were travelling over. Tossing the trailing thoughts aside, Ian decided to sort his bed out. He wrestled the sheets over the mattress and set up his pillows and duvet. His bedding was navy, with thin white stripes across it. Once his bed was set up, he resisted the temptation to dive into the covers and instead, opted to wander out into the hall. He stared down the hall, noting the open door a few metres away, and followed to where the door was also wedged open, only this time with a simple, grey doorstop. Music escaped the room, the sound of charts music reaching his ears. Ian stopped at the doorway and found a girl, stood on her bed, arms up high and reaching to press fairy lights into the white tack on the wall. The girl was fairly short, the image causing Ian to hold in a chuckle.

He knocked, loud enough for the girl standing on her bed to spin round. Upon seeing Ian, she smiled warmly, releasing the fairy lights in her hand and allowing them to hang from where they were half pinned to the wall.

“Hey!” She greeted, jumping down and padding towards him.

“Hey!” Ian called back. “I’m Ian. I’m going to be living next door.”

“ _Ohh_! I’m Tash! Well, come on in, make yourself at home. Just, move any boxes out of the way,” she ushered, moving to plonk herself down on the bed.

As Ian entered, she tapped the space beside her. Now that he was inside, he could see that a lot of her side of the room was beautifully decorated, with only a few gaps to be filled. She had grey, swirl-patterned bedding, and cushions neatly arranged by her pillows. The general colour scheme was a modern monochrome, with bursts of pink.

Tash pulled her legs up, crossing them comfortably in front of her. She had a cute and chubby face, with a small, silver nose ring on her face. Her jet-black hair was let lose in thick curls that sprung close to her face and she wore a casual denim jacket and black leggings. 

Ian sat opposite her. His eyes roamed the room, finding the layout matched his own. Ian’s eyes caught the bed opposite where flowery bed sheets and matching pillows covered the bed. His brow furrowed in thought.

“So, your roommates here, then?” He asked.

“Yeah, isn’t yours?” Tash quizzed, her head tipping to one side.

“Nah, guessing he’s going to be late. Probably missed his flight or got a late start.”

“Huh, that’s strange. If it helps, my roommate got here, unpacked, said her short hello, and left for a final day with her parents. She still seemed nice, though.”

Their conversation moved on to their courses; where they both came from; their hobbies and other interests. The time flew by and Ian quickly learnt so much about Tash – that she was following her dream to study Art, that she came from St Charles, Illinois, and that she had a deep love for music and painting. Before they knew it, both of their stomachs were roaring loudly, interrupting their exchange and telling them that now was very good time to go get food.

Ian checked his watch again _. 18:14._ “Hey,” He chimed. “You want to go explore and get something to eat?”

Tash nodded, her stomach rumbling once again in confirmation. Ian jogged back to his room to grab his jacket, noticing that the door had fallen shut. Pushing it open, he went straight for his drawers and dragged out a dark green jacket that he swiftly shoved on. It was the start of September and there was a minor wind sweeping across campus. Ian grabbed his keys off the top of the dresser and was ready to leave when he heard the sound of the toilet flushing from the adjoining bathroom. Ian turned, his eyes catching the boxes that were flung unceremoniously onto the other bed. Before Ian could think anything further, the bathroom door was kicked open.

Ian’s eyes met his roommates for the first time and only one thought stayed in his head _. This was definitely not what he had been expecting_. Ian’s roommate was average height, with short dark hair and hard features. His skin was pale, with tattoos peeking out on his right arm. He wore a blue shirt, the sleeves shoved up to his elbows. He wore plain black jeans and scuffed, muddy trainers.

“The fuck are you looking at?” _Even his voice was harsh_ , Ian thought as he quickly collected himself.

“Uh…Me and one of the girls next door are going to go get some dinner somewhere…If you want to come?” Ian tried.

His roommate – Mikhailo, Ian remembered – scoffed. “No, thanks.” He said, going for one of the boxes on his bed and yanking out some clothes.

Ian stood awkwardly. “Uhh…Sorry, I took the bed by the window. That alright with you?”

“Whatever.” Mikhailo dismissed again.

The room fell silent again. Ian shuffled his feet. Clearing his throat, he eyed his roommates busy movements.

“You need any help unpacking?” 

He knew it was a total Fiona move, but a dark, moody bad boy really wasn’t what he had expected for a college roommate.

“Aren’t you meant to be leaving or something?” Mikhailo shot back, turning to face Ian with raised brows.

Ian’s mouth opened and closed, unsure how to respond. Things had been so much easier meeting Tash. Suddenly, he regretted choosing accommodation with a roommate. Trust Ian to throw himself into the deep end. Resigning the issue, Ian left with a quick good bye, pulling the door shut behind him. Tash was waiting just outside her room, zipping her jacket up as he approached.

“Dude, I’d probably lock your door,” she called.

“It’s fine. My roommates in. I’ve got my keys in case he goes anywhere.” He jingled his keys in confirmation before burying them in his pocket.

“Oooh! You met your roommate! Well, does he want to come find some dinner with us?”

“Nope, think he’d rather stay in,” Ian muttered. Tash shrugged and off they went to explore the surrounding town.

* * *

After wandering a block or two away from campus, the pair quickly found several restaurants and cafes lining the high street. It was lit with plenty of streetlights, and spotted with parked cars. There was a cold breeze in the air that chilled their skin and tussled their hair. If weren’t so hungry and the weather not so harsh, they might have explored further. Instead, they found the first restaurant on the block and quickly scanned the menu posted in the window before entering. They appreciated the shelter, abruptly brushing the cold off their skin.

For what looked from the outside to be a small, cosy restaurant, the inside was surprisingly big and spacious. The room was well lit, the flickering of candle lights spread across the tables. They sat themselves in a booth along the far wall, closing themselves off from the rest of the diners. They settled in and made quick work of eyeing the menu. In little to no time, they had ordered food and drinks and were back into the flow of conversation.

“So, Ian,” Tash began. “What brought you here?”

Ian grinned. “Well, I used to be in ROTC back home. When I had to pick what I wanted to study, math and science was always stuff I had to know. Seemed like I should go from there. What about you? How did you get into Art?”

Tash looked impressed, nodding back appreciatively. She paused as the waiter brought over their drinks, placing them in the centre before he disappeared again. She took a long sip of her drink, then responded.

“I guess I grew up drawing all the time. Once I was a teenager, I had other stuff I was good at and enjoyed, but I couldn’t get into anything else as much as I did art. It’s my passion, you know?”

Ian nodded. Tash was an easy person to get along with. She was smart, and kind, and funny. Ian felt for the first time like he could easily settle in with Tash on his side. They talked and laughed, their food was brought over, and the duo made quick work of scoffing it until their hunger was gone. They spoke between eager mouthfuls, covering the topic of family, relationships, and home. 

Tash seemed stunned by some of Ian's 'Gallagher stories', but soon learned a lot about the Gallagher siblings and could admire at least their solidarity. Ian learned that Tash only had one younger brother, Ben, who was sweet when he wasn't playing tricks on her. She felt pretty lucky after hearing more stories about Carl. Other than that, they had friends and other family at home, but neither had a partner.

In spite of how well things were going, Ian wasn't ready to talk boys yet. He had known he was gay since he had entered high school and the journey hadn't been easy. Living in the South Side, Ian knew better than to shout his sexuality from the rooftops. It wasn't safe and moving to a new area meant he had a blank slate to work out who was safe to talk to.

Their conversation met a natural end and they paid the bill ready to head back. The walk back wasn’t far, and they were far too busy laughing and joking to feel the wind against their skin. Ian felt a wave of happiness overcome him. Day one had been a success.

* * *

Once they were back on campus and into the warmth of their block, the pair made their way up the stairs and to their floor. When Ian got back outside his room, the thrumming sound of a heavy bass line escaped through the door. Ian and Tash shared a look. They said goodnight at their doors and Ian caught Tash's murmured 'good luck' as he went to investigate.


	2. Settling In

Pushing inside, the loud music flooded his ears. The room seemed transformed. The differences in the two personalities was obvious from where the room was divided. On one side, was Ian’s books, his school stuff, and the cheesy mini basketball set that Carl and Debbie had given him last Christmas. It was basic, but homey. The other side was a complete contrast. There was an abundance of overlapping posters across the walls. Ian recognised some of them as bands and other music artists; others were just strange posters depicting guns, fists, and indecipherable tattoos. A dartboard hung to the side of the bed, a cluster of darts all collected in the centre. A large speaker sat atop the dresser, the music blaring out.

Ian found his roommate lounging back on his bed, a beer can in hand.

“Mikhailo,” Ian called, his voice drowned out by the speaker. “MIKHAILO!” He yelled, the other boy’s eyes darting up. Their gaze met. Mikhailo’s eyes were a stern and piercing blue. Before Ian lost all thought, he snapped himself out of the intense eye contact. “You mind turning the music down?” 

The boy dumped his can on the nightstand and dragged himself over to speaker. Gripping the knob, he twisted it round, leaving it at a volume that was still above polite. Ian gave up, moving to strip his jacket off and return it to his wardrobe.

“It’s Mickey, not Mikhailo,” his roommate added above the noise.

Ian’s brow furrowed. _Mickey Milkovich_. This was the most interaction they had had so far, and Ian wasn’t going to leave it at that. Before Mickey could return to his slumped state on his bed, Ian stepped closer, raising his voice above the music once again.

“So, where are you from?” Ian asked.

Mickey eyed him. “What, are you trying be best friends? We gonna’ braid each other’s hair and have movie nights?” Mickey sniped.

“No…” Ian was quickly gathering that living with Mickey wasn’t quite going to go as he had expected. But Ian refused to give up the effort. Reaching the speaker, he twisted the dial down further. “I’d just kind of like to get to know the person I have to live with?”

“Hey, don’t be touching my shit!” Mickey spat, stepping closer with his chest puffed out. 

Ian held up his hands in surrender. Mickey's expression was both intimidating and amusing. Ian was already getting the feeling that this year was going to subvert every expectation he had. Neither of them moved, Ian simply waiting on an answer to his question. Mickey scoffed, relenting his burning glare.

“I’m no serial killer, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

“Come on. Milkovich? That’s Russian or something, right?” Ian pressed.

“Ukrainian.”

Aside from the correction, Mickey clearly wasn’t intending to give much away. Satisfied that their conversation was over, he paced back to his bed and resumed his position, swigging the last of his beer from the can. Ian took a breath and tried a different tactic.

“I’m Ian Gallagher. I’m studying Business, and I’m from Chicago, South Side.”

It sounded like an AA meeting introduction, but it was the best line he could think of to put himself out there. Mickey’s interest seemed somewhat piqued. His gaze rose, their eyes meeting in a steady stand-off.

“South Side?” He echoed.

Ian nodded, waiting.

“Where abouts?” Mickey quizzed, eyeing Ian sceptically. When Ian somewhat reluctantly gave up his address, Mickey snorted. “Well, what d’you know, Gallagher? Looks like we’re not so far apart.”

Ian felt his lip twitch upward. It felt like they were finally getting somewhere. As different as they both appeared, Mickey and Ian had found common ground. 

“You’re South Side?” Ian confirmed.

Mickey hummed. He was settled down on his bed and seemed to have given up the battle to blast music, instead opting to focus on the new beer can in his grasp. Ian watched as he cracked open another can and tipped it back. Stepping over to the few remaining boxes on his side of the room, he crouched down and tugged open one that was messily labelled ‘ _stash’_ . He dug through the contents to the bottom, where his hands clasped the crate at the bottom and dragged out a pack of his own beers that he had brought along with him. He popped the top open, which gave an audibly long hiss and perched on his bed. When he looked across again, Mickey’s eyes were on him. Ian took a small sip of his beer, keeping his face neutral as he swallowed the warm, bitter taste. Ian ignored the small temptation to store the other beers in the fridge down the hall. If Mickey was drinking them room temperature, so would he.

Ian was reminded of some overly referenced advice: _if you can’t beat ‘em, join ‘em_.

“It’s weird,” Ian called. “That we never met before.”

Mickey hummed again, taking another long swig.

“Hey, you ever go to the Kash and Grab?” Ian blurted suddenly.

His mind had been flitting through things he could mention. Family seemed like a bad topic to bring up for someone so closed off, as did anything else that could be considered personal. Ian stuck with the only thing Mickey had taken an interest in -the fact they came from the same place. Somehow, they were connected by that. At his words, Mickey battled a smirk, scratching above one brow as an excuse to dip his head.

“Yeah,” he chuckled. “I, uh, I use to raid that place whenever I was around.”

Ian sat stunned. When Mickey looked over at him, the words were dragged from his thoughts. “I used to work there,” he said, his mind reeling at how they had never crossed paths.

Mickey sent him a sceptical look. He warranted that it was weird that they had never met. Admittedly, Mickey was in and out of trouble, running jobs with his brothers, and trying his best to stay out of his dad’s way. He had no doubts Ian had the most simple life in the South Side either, though he wasn't going to question it.

“Then I guess you were lucky to avoid me, Gallagher,” he laughed. It was short and harsh, almost a scoff.

“Maybe,” Ian mused.

He took another swig of his drink as his thoughts were rattling away wildly inside his head. _How different would things be if they had met back home? Years ago, even? Grown up around each other? Would they have still ended up here?_ Ian shook the thoughts from his head, instead finding a new line of questions. He didn't quite know when, but at some point, his body had leaned in on autopilot, his gaze locked on Mickey with a newfound fascination.

“So, what brought you here?” Ian asked.

“Getting the fuck outta’ the South Side,” Mickey muttered against the tip of the bottle.

Ian knew far too well what that felt like. Few people left the South Side. No one had the money to move nor the prospects to do better anywhere else. When Ian had been looking at university options, he had looked further from home than he had let on. He felt guilty, leaving his family and desperately trying for somewhere better, but he knew that it was what they would want for him too. Fiona longed to be somewhere else, though how could she leave the family that she had raised. Getting a whole family out was a miracle that didn't happen. 

“Yeah, I get that,” Ian said finally.

Mickey chugged the rest of his beer and smoothly grabbed another, ready to rip it open. His phone rang abruptly, and he fished it out. He huffed at the lit screen but answered anyway, shoving the phone up against his ear. 

“What?” He grunted.

Ian couldn’t hear anything from the other end, but the way that Mickey’s face scrunched up told him it wasn’t a good call. He sat up suddenly, squeezing the bridge of his nose as he spoke.

“What do you mean- _Look_ , I already told you I couldn’t do that job!” Mickey snapped.

His eyes flicked over to Ian, their eyes meeting and Ian made sure to let his slide away as if he hadn’t already been caught listening in. Mickey stood then, and strode out of the room, letting fall shut behind him. Ian could hear his low tone through the door, though the words were murmured. He sat back, taking a few more sips from his bottle. In his effort to distract himself from Mickey’s voice, Ian grabbed for his laptop. Loading up the university’s page, Ian logged himself back in and studied his timetable for the upcoming week. His first semester seemed easy going. There were days where he had mornings or afternoons off, which he would be grateful for when the deadlines became more frequent. He also had spaces between a lot of lectures that would serve as the perfect time to de-stress and wind down.

After a couple more minutes, Mickey was filing back into the room. He tossed his phone down on the bed and sunk back down. Ian looked over from his laptop, his eyes searching Mickey for any clue of his mood. He looked as passive as ever, giving off his typical _leave me alone_ vibes.

“Everything alright?” Ian asked.

“Sure,” Mickey grumbled. He proceeded to grab his backpack form under his bed and dragged out his laptop.

“That your old work or something?”

“Something like that.”

Mickey didn’t expand and Ian knew better than to pry. Instead, he rose and moved back over to his stereo atop his dresser. He grasped the knob and paused. Calling back over his shoulder, he asked, “This gonna’ bother you?”

Ian shook his head, a small smile curling at his lips. The fact they had managed to progress from ‘don’t turn my music down’ to ‘mind if I turn my music up’ meant that Ian had to visibly dial his happiness down to a normal level. Things felt like they were improving by the second. Mickey wasn’t an open book but they were learning more about each other and that definitely made it easier to live together.

The pair relaxed as the time ticked by. They weren’t in constant conversation, but the awkwardness was gone again. It was intentional silence, where the both of them could do their own thing. It was easy. Ian copied his timetable onto his phone calendar and searched his modules online for suggested text books or readings. He had one reading required for his Thursday seminar. Fortunately, the link to the reading was provided and Ian downloaded it, quickly scanning the contents. It was a new introduction to a theory Ian had never heard of, but the layout was clear and simple enough. He found his eyes studying the words, taking in the information and soon he was invested in the page. It worked his brain, but he found that he understood the meaning in the words.

When Ian looked over at the clock beside his bed, its glaring, red digits reflected back. _11:34_. Tomorrow, they had to register and enrol on their modules ‘officially’. Ian didn’t understand why it worked like that but he settled on the plan to get up early and head out. He set his alarm and replaced it back on the nightstand. He glanced over at Mickey. The other boy was still sinking into his mattress, his crushed beer cans discarded on the nightstand beside him. His focus was locked on his phone, his fingers swiping and tapping away every so often. Dragging his eyes away, Ian pushed himself up out of bed and, closing the lid on his laptop, slid it into his backpack at the end of his bed. He strode off into the bathroom, grasping his toothbrush and lazily brushing his teeth.

As he paced back out, he paused at the foot of Mickey’s bed.

“Hey, I think I’m going to sleep,” he said.

Mickey understood the deeper meaning and hummed his confirmation. He switched his music off and Ian traipsed back over toward his own bed. Shimmying out of his clothes, Ian missed the way Mickey’s eyes slid over his form, noting the boy’s tattoo on his ribs. It was a tattoo Ian had gotten when his dreams of being in the army had been their highest. He still thought about it every once in a while, and his tattoo was a living reminder. It was a very detailed image of an eagle and in its claws was a long AK-47. 

As Ian slipped under his covers, Mickey’s eyes shifted back to his own bed. He wasn’t tired, but he figured with no music outside of his headphones, and having to consider someone else’s aim to sleep, he opted to follow suite. Mickey tugged his shirt up over his head, flinging it off and letting it land on the floor beside his bed. Shuffling down his jeans, he kicked them off to one side. Ian tried desperately to keep his eyes averted. Checking out his roommate was not something he had intended, but as his eyes swept over navy checked boxers and up to an outlined back and strong arms, his resolve weakened. Ian quickly shuffled onto his back, resigning himself to the punishment of staring at the ceiling. He let his eyes fall shut and the busy day sink in. In record timing, he was out, and his head lulled to one side, his cheek crashing into the pillow.

Mickey watched as Ian’s chest rose and fell in a rhythmic pattern. Things could be a lot worse. When Mickey had signed up for his accommodation he had tried to be as alone as possible. When that wasn’t an option, he was at least given a bathroom that would only be shared with one other person. Ian Gallagher wasn’t at all what he had expected. He wasn’t some fancy snob, that was fifth in his family to go to university. Instead, he was just another South Side born and bred teenager with a desperate plea to find his way out. Ian was a lot more like Mickey than he could have ever predicted.

Resigning his wandering thoughts, he knocked off the light and settled down in his bed, letting his head fall back.

* * *

When they woke the next morning, it was to the sound of Ian’s simple silver alarm clock screeching away from its place on his nightstand. A long, pained groan followed, and Ian wasn’t sure if it came from him or the Mickey. Slamming his hand down on the button, the blaring noise cut off. Peeling open his tired eyes, Ian squinted against the light that filled the room. The window above his bed had the curtains stripped back, something he hadn’t considered before he hopped into bed. The light forced his eyes to adjust, his gaze settling on the fresh sight of his room in the morning glow. It was a comforting feeling; a new chapter lit up before his eyes.

Ian jumped up from his bed, resisting the way his covers clung to his body and subtly tugged him back. Groaning from the other bed garnered his attention and he saw that Mickey was still grumbling with one arm flung over his face. Ian snorted at the sight.

“Hey, you wanna’ come explore the campus today?” Ian offered, rubbing the sleep from his fluttering eyes.

“Nope,” Mickey dismissed.

Rolling to face the wall, he yanked his pillow out from under his head and smushing it over his face. The covers were tangled around his body as if he had been battling them in his sleep.

“Can you close the fucking curtains?” He added from under his cushy prison.

Ian fought the chuckle that rose in his throat. New mental note: Mickey Milkovich was not a morning person. Moving back over to his bed, he ripped the curtains back across. It blocked very little of the intruding light, though it was the best he could do. Shrugging, Ian waltzed towards the bathroom, calling back over his shoulder, though Mickey gave no response.

“I’m going for a shower.”

Mickey registered the sound of the bathroom door shutting. He made no move to get up. He didn’t know what time it was but would bet good money that whatever time Gallagher had set his alarm for was far earlier than Mickey would ever optionally get up. Instead, he chased the fading feeling of deep sleep.

Standing under the warm spray, Ian lapped up every luxurious moment. Back home, the shower had been unreliable at the best of times, and warm water was never a given. Now, he soaked up the heat, letting his eyes close and tipping his head back. Day two. Despite the hiccups, day one had been a successful introduction to college life. Tash was the outgoing, friendly influence he needed to thrust him into the social aspects of campus; And with Mickey, they had found common ground that connected them and made rooming together a lot easier.

Today, Ian had many goals to tick off his mental list. Firstly, he aimed to explore the campus, with the added help of his online virtual tour. Then, he needed to officially register and enrol on his modules; unfortunately for him, all his first-year modules were compulsory. Lastly, he needed to get food in and finally investigate the shared kitchen space.

He scrubbed at his skin and worked his fingers into his red hair until he felt clean and awake. Stepping back out of the shower, he grabbed his towel from the rack and wrapped it around his waist. He swiped up his underwear from the floor and waltzed back out the bathroom.

He couldn’t hide his amusement at finding that Mickey was still heavily buried under his pillow and duvet. Ian crossed the room to his dresser and pulled out new underwear, and a new top, relocating his jeans from yesterday before he dumped them all on his bed. With Mickey still asleep, he dropped his towel and made quick work of shuffling on his clean boxers. Drying off the odd spots where droplets still clung, Ian then tossed his towel off to one side and shimmied into his jeans and top. He then found his black backpack and his coat and slung them on. Zipping up his coat, he gave a final glance over at the pile of bedding on the opposite side of the room.

“I’m going out. Want me to lock the door?”

Mickey grumbled from under his covers. “Whatever.”

Ian sighed. Shrugging, he grabbed his keys from his nightstand and headed for the door. He left it unlocked, his faith in their neighbours a lot higher than they had ever been in the South Side. Kev and V had been their close friends but everyone else was known by name but never trusted until it was necessary.

Trailing down the hall, Ian stopped off at the next door and knocked curtly on the door. It didn’t take long before the door was pulled open. Unfortunately, it was an unfamiliar face.

“Yes?” Came the short reply.

Ian stared back down the hall, checking he hadn’t accidentally skipped further ahead than he meant to. The distance checked out and he eyed the girl again before the light bulb in his head lit with realisation. Tash’s roommate stared back at him, her eyes giving him a once-over as she held the door barely open. She had firmly straightened blonde hair, with a black glossy headband holding it from her face. Her eyes were a crystal blue, though the way her brows were drawn down over them gave them a piercing look. Her skin was pale but clear and her mouth was turned up in a frown.

Ian went with the safest response. “Is Tash in?”

The roommate rolled her eyes and twisted round to call over her shoulder. “I think someone’s at the door for you,” she said, then walked away from the door abruptly. Ian was left with the thought that she should definitely meet Mickey Milkovich, though the universe could implode with close proximity of the two of them.

A moment later Tash appeared in the doorway, her eyes boring into his. “Please tell me we’re going somewhere,” she pleaded.

Ian grinned. “Exploring Campus?”

Tash nodded. She quickly gathered her jacket, coat and bag and strode back out with them in her hands. Closing the door behind her, she then worked on adorning them in order. Ian let his smirk show proudly.

“Thought you said you liked your roommate?” He teased.

She glared at him, effectively cutting off his stifled laugh. “Don’t even,” she warned. Once she was dressed in her assortment of things, they made their way off down the hall. Tash had black, ripped jeans with a comfortable white top peering out between her unzipped coat. She had cute, silver earrings in that Ian hadn’t noticed the day before. It was only when she tucked her hair behind one ear that they caught the light.

“I swear last night she was fine,” Tash exclaimed. “Then, this morning, it’s like ‘oh Tash, do you mind not keeping food in the room, it’s pretty distracting’. What the hell is up with that?” Tash waved her hands dramatically and Ian snorted at her – for what he had seen so far – pretty accurate impression.

They walked down the stairs and out of their building. All the while Tash filled Ian in on the other little ‘things’ that were cropping up. It seemed Ian wasn’t the only one facing some difficulties. However, Ian prayed they were past the awkward part now.

They paused their conversation and agreed to explore the campus on their journey over to enrolment, then take a different route back to check out some other areas. The campus was bustling with people, many others on the same journey as them. They trailed off across the stone paths, wandering past their stretching accommodation building and reaching the array of lecture theatres. The buildings around them were all tall and modern. Several were designed with unusual shapes and stood out against the others. However, those were often the larger main buildings meant for set subjects. The engineering building was especially fancy.

They passed the other accommodation buildings that were spread out along the route, but finally, they found the library, its big, clear windows displaying students already inside and working away in the pods and at desks. It was in a large and open courtyard, with a few smaller food places lining one side. As the carried on up campus to the far North, the pair made a note to stop off here on the way back.

They knew they had reached the right building for registration when they caught a steady stream of students filtering in through the automatic doors. Following their lead, Ian and Tash stepped through into the grand, oversized room. The walls stretched high towards the curved, arching white ceiling. The whole room was filled with light.

The many other bodies blocked off a lot of the space, but peering over and past them, Ian could make out one set of students making their way in a slow line towards a photographer, with a white backdrop already set up. Another long line of queuing students led the way into another room at the back. Ian and Tash meandered over to the first queue. Tapping the guy in front of them, Tash garnered the attention of the most indie-looking guy Ian had ever seen. His black hair was long and straight, hanging free around his face. He had brown eyes, that were half-lidded, and his glasses were pale, thin frames that circled his eyes.

“Hey,” she greeted. “What’s up with the two different lines?”

“Oh, it’s library card pick up,” he nodded back. “If you need your picture taken, they’ll do it now. If it’s already done and approved, you can head straight in to pick it up.”

Tash gave a simple thanks and the guy turned back to his group. Tash and Ian had luckily both sent in their own photos and had them approved. Stepping back from the line, they moved around a new incoming group of people.

“You think I was going to risk leaving the final photograph up to a photographer that’s got thousands of other people to snap. No way,” she laughed.

They wandered over to the next queue, slotting in at the back and trying desperately to work out how long the queue itself really was. They were willing to bet that it would twist and turn throughout the next room. They chatted away idly in the queue, letting their conversation dull the frustration of taking a few torturous, slow steps every few minutes.

“So, how’s your roommate been since last night?” Tash asked.

Ian sighed. “You know, we had this really great talk last night. I think we might actually have a lot more in common.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Ian said, thinking back to their conversation. “We grew up in the same area.”

Tash nodded along to the catch up of information, ignoring the slight jealousy at their progress.

“Huh, that’s really cool actually,” she said finally. “I’ll try again with Sarah tonight. She’s nice, if we weren’t living together, I’m sure we’d get along. She just has a lot of rules and is super particular about stuff. I get it. It’s just tough, you know? Having to think about everything before you do it in your own room.”

Ian agreed. In that respect, he was lucky to be roomed with Mickey. The only rules Mickey had set was to not touch his stuff, which was pretty easy compared to Sarah’s rules. They just had to work on the whole communication aspect.

The line moved forward and soon they were in the next room, a larger hall that was set up with a row of desks. Someone sat behind each desk, their fingers all readily hovering over a laptop. The students seemed to divide off to each desk like registers in a busy store. Each person made their way over, until it was Tash and Ian at the front of the line. They split apart, each heading over to the newly free desks. As Ian stepped forward the lady behind the desk raised her eyes to meet his. She rose her eyebrows at him silently.

“Ian Gallagher,” he said.

The women nodded as her fingers fired away on the laptop keys in front of her. She paused, her eyes scanning the page once before she was moving again. She dug through under the desk and after a couple of seconds, she bobbed back up, a small white card in hand. She slid it across the table toward him and Ian’s eyes fell to the picture he had taken in their bathroom back home. It was the only place that had the precious white background that the photos required.

Swiping up his card, he slipped it into his wallet and tucked that away in his back pocket. With that, he paced back towards the way they had come in, meeting Tash on the way and passing the line that didn’t seem to have gone down at all. His mind flicked back to Mickey and he made a mental note to warn his roommate about the queues. They backtracked the same route to the library courtyard, where they swung right into the campus shop that they had seen earlier. The inside stretched back further than they had expected, many organised aisles sweeping through the store. They marched through the aisles their hands finding things to inspect or consider for dinner.

Ian grunted at the prices for even the most basic foods. “Where does all the tuition fees even go if not putting the price of stuff down for students?” He mused, placing the crisps back in their slot on the shelf.

“Hey, we could always do an order together? Get a bunch of stuff dropped off on campus tomorrow or Tuesday and split the delivery fee?” She proposed.

Ian nodded. “Yeah, actually that sounds great.”

With the easier goal of finding food suitable for tonight and tomorrow, they quickly found some things to put together and checked it out at the registers. Once their food was bagged, they began their descent back to their rooms. They detoured a little and found some extra lecture theatres and what seemed like extra work places to the West of campus. It was a small help in the grand scheme of things, but the campus website would help with the timetable related needs.

* * *

As they reached their accommodation and climbed the stairs to their floor, Tash spoke. “I’ll grab my laptop and meet you in the kitchen. Can ask your roommate too if he wants anything.”

Ian hummed, wondering if Mickey would still be in or whether they had secretly passed each other on campus. When Ian got to his door, it was unlocked, and he pushed inside easily. Mickey was stood beside his bed, a guitar in hand, he strummed it experimentally, his eyes never leaving it. Ian wanted to ask if Mickey really knew how to play, but guessed the answer would be something along the lines of _what’s it to you anyway?_ Instead, he recalled his note and took the opportunity to check in.

“Hey, have you enrolled yet?”

“Nope,” Mickey answered, still plucking at the guitar strings.

“It closes at 6,” Ian supplied.

“What are you mothering me for?” Mickey bit. “I’ll go do it when I’m ready.”

Ian didn’t have an answer for that. He shuffled back over to his bed and ditched his backpack, coat and his shopping bag. The silence stretched out between them and even with the voice in his head telling him to leave it alone, Ian felt the words bubbling up again.

“Me and Tash are gonna order a food shop if you want to add anything?”

“Nah, I’ll grab something on my way back,” Mickey said, his back still to Ian.

Ian surrendered his attempts. Taking his wallet and shopping bag and heading back out the room to their shared kitchen space down the hall. As he opened the door, he was met with the overwhelming use of silver. Their kitchen was large and square. There were two fridges and freezers, which were stacked one above the other, and one large sink, with a designated drying rack beside it. There were long, stretching counters all along the outside of the room that were only separated by the space for the oven and hobs.

In the centre of the room, were two tables, pushed together to make one big square, with 6 seats around it for each of the 6 students that shared the kitchen. As Ian made his way over to Tash at the table, he suddenly remembered that he hadn’t met or even seen the other two people along the hall.

“Hey,” she smiled up at him. “He want to add anything?”

“Nope,” Ian replied, slumping down in the chair next to her.

“You OK?” She quizzed, eyeing him.

“Yeah, sorry. Mickey was just being really distant again.”

“Huh. Maybe, he’s just like that?”

Her words were a small help, but it bothered him that Mickey was so hard to reach. Their first night had been great, but today was awkward and clunky again. He resolved to give it the time it needed and took over from Tash when she slid the laptop across to him. He added as much food as he could for the next week or so, making sure to include storage foods that would last like pasta and rice. When they had finished with their joint shop, they were surprised to find their deal hunting ways had cut a lot of the cost. They quickly scheduled a delivery date and swapped bank transfer information for this and any future shops.

As they finished swapping details and submitting their new recipients, Tash added: “Hey, you mind swapping numbers? Would just be cool to be able to text you instead of hitting on your door and risking running into your roommate.”

“Yeah, that would be awesome.”

They exchanged phones, keying in each other’s numbers and saving the contact details. When they had finished, they moved onto their next task of making dinner. Luckily, Ian had swiped up an easy microwave meal for the night. Ian was, by no means, a bad cook. He was used to cooking and finding his own food in the Gallagher house, especially when Debbie and Carl would complain until he inevitably whipped something up for them.

They cooked around each other undisturbed and even sat at the table together, munching on their food. 

* * *

When Ian stepped back into the room, it was silent and empty. Mickey had inevitably caved and gone to register. Ian dumped himself down on his bed, only to hear his phone chime from within his pocket. Digging it back out, he unlocked it and clicked on his new text.

**FROM:** Tash

**MESSAGE:** Hey, I forgot it’s gonna be fresher’s week if you wanna hit the town sometime this week?

A smile toyed on Ian’s lips. He had almost forgotten that himself, but some nights out exploring the town with Tash sounded great. He fired off a reply and they decided to wander back into town tomorrow night. Ian had the fleeting thought that maybe Mickey would come with them. He had been happy to drink in the room, but Ian debated whether the heavy social aspect would throw him off. He decided that he could bring it up later that night.

* * *

Ian had been sat in his bed, his laptop adorning his lap when Mickey finally marched through the door. He had a pizza box in hand that he dropped unceremoniously onto his bed. He nodded his head in a wordless greeting. As he shrugged his coat off and flopped down on his bed, he ripped into the box, pulling out one thickly coated cheesy slice of pizza and tearing into it with his teeth.

“You know,” he spoke between hearty bites. “For a pricey campus, this is some good pizza.”

Ian breathed out a laugh. “Oh yeah?”

Mickey hummed, his eyes staring at the pizza in sustained awe. Ian considered that this might be the happiest he had seen Mickey look. Taking that as a sign of a good moment, Ian dove head first with what had played in the back of his mind for the last 2 hours.

“You think that would be post-night out worthy pizza?” Ian tested, dipping his toe in the topic before he fully plunged.

“A thousand percent. Greasiest thing I’ve seen since that induction guy’s hairs.”

Ian ignored the realisation that he knew exactly which guy Mickey was talking about. Instead, he focused on a carefully planned next step.

“You go on nights out back home?”

Mickey chewed away at the large mouthful he had just crammed in, nodded distractedly. “Yeah, a little.”

Ian pressed on. “Cool. You know this week is going to be Fresher’s week,” he said. Mickey showed no reaction and Ian stepped further. “I was thinking of exploring the nightlife…If you’d want to come with?”

Mickey’s gaze flitted to him then and Ian cracked under the pressure.

“I mean we could just go to a few clubs and see what’s there. It could be fun. We don’t even need to go to the recommended ones or anything, just wander round…” The heat was rising to his face. He could hear the throb of his heart loud in his ears, drowning out his words. 

“Look, Gallagher-”

He could hear the rejection before it was even pronounced. His plan was slipping away, spiralling out of control as the words leapt from his lips before he processed them.

“You might even meet someone,” he blurted suddenly.

Mickey’s brows shot up to his hairline at that. Ian felt his face heating up as the blood raced to the surface. He wanted to stop talking, he really did, but the words pushed themselves up regardless.

“Not like bring them back. Obviously, that would get weird. But like, not that you couldn’t…We could work something out if you were going to bring a girl back…”

It was at that moment that Ian wished the ground would open up and swallow him. If Mickey wasn't staring back at him, he would have smacked his hands over his burning face and smothered himself. Mickey sat stunned. There was the crust of his pizza slice still in hand that seemed forgotten now. He blinked slowly, processing the absolute jumble of words. He felt like his brain had been attacked with a whisk. He didn’t even know where to begin with Ian’s suggestion of meeting people to bring back. Then, there was the whole _girl_ assumption, not that Mickey intended on clearing that up.

“OK…” He said, steadying himself. 

“OK?” Ian echoed. “You’ll come?”

Mickey acknowledged the little voice in the back of his mind telling him that it was a terrible idea, though he convinced himself that he was only saying yes to stop Gallagher from turning into a chattering monkey again.

“Whatever, sure,” he shrugged, diverting his interest back to his unfinished pizza.

Ian took a subtle deep breath and tried to relax back into his bed. Before Mickey had come back, he had been watching an episode of a true crime series. He let the episode play again, filling the silence that had settled over them. After another 10 minutes, the tension had finally left Ian’s body. Him and Mickey were back into their routine of doing their own thing in each other’s company and he had let the awkward encounter leave his mind, focusing now on the new development that was: Tomorrow night, he and Mickey were exploring the clubs in town together. And Ian promised himself that he would make a much better impression tomorrow.


End file.
